


Course Selection

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: That One Building [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Who (2005), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, OFC - Freeform, crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pratt it is</p>
            </blockquote>





	Course Selection

Pratt it is. 

He actually applied to a number of schools in New York, but Pratt was the one who seemed the least impressed with the fact that Captain America was applying to their school. 

The acceptance letter had been single, and it had come with a course catalog, and information on housing if he needed it. 

He’s starting in the spring, and in the meantime, meeting with a guidance counselor in a few weeks to discuss what he’d like his focus of study to be, and looking over that course catalog. 

He wants to study everything. 

Photography looks amazing. Typography, drawing and painting of course, 3D and light and color design. Illustration, both digital and not. Motion design, digital art, stop motion animation, sculpture. 

He just wants to take everything, and it’s a part of himself Steve left by the wayside when he joined the war effort; his love for visual art. 

He feels…

He feels excited. 

It’s a new feeling, and he highlights every course he’s interested in in blue highlighter. 

A knock on the door distracts him, and he wanders over to open it, his head still buried in the guide. 

Miranda smiles up at him, holding what looks like a pot of pasta. “Hullo, Steve.” 

The accent is familiar, and for a moment, thoughts of Peggy punch him in the gut, before he shakes it off. “Hi, Miranda.” 

She smiles. “I made a bit too much spaghetti Bolognaise, and I thought you might like some.” 

Steve grins. “Thanks. C’mon in.” He steps back, still looking down at the course guide. 

“What have you got there?” she asks as she sets the bowl down on the kitchen counter. 

“Course guide for school in the spring,” Steve says, taking a seat, still absorbed. 

“Aw, that’s brilliant,” Miranda beams, walking over to take a seat, pushing red hair from her eyes. “What are you studying?”

“Well...I was going for graphic design, but...but photography sounds so great, and there are all these classes...illustration and sculpture and animation... “ 

She leans over, and her eyes go wide at the sight of all the blue markings in the book. “Blimey.” 

He grins at her sheepishly. “I’m gonna talk to a guidance counselor next week. Narrow it down.” 

Miranda nods. “It’s good that you’re excited though. I loved school.” 

“Where did you go?” Steve asks, looking up at her. 

“Stanford,” she says. “I studied linguistics and ancient and modern languages.” 

He frowns. “How many do you speak?” 

“Twenty-three.” 

He stares at her, wide-eyed. “Whoa.” 

She grins sheepishly. “S’why I’m lead translator for Pepper at SI.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” He looks down at his course guide and frowns. “Do you think I should try and pick a more useful major?” 

“What d’you mean useful?” 

“I dunno...somethin’ that would help the world more…somethin’ that has more to do with the rest of my life…” 

“Right. Two points,” she says. “One: art helps the world plenty. It’s an important part of what makes humans humans. Two: do you really want to be Captain America all the time, and study global economics, or political science or some other field of study that has to do with that part of your life?” 

He stays quiet. 

“Steve Rogers is an artist,” she points out. “That’s part of who you are. And you’re excited about it. You’ve got to live your life for you, yeah? Not for what other people expect of you.” 

“Speaking from personal experience?” Steve asks, grinning a little. 

“Well, when your dad’s the last of his alien species that just so happens to swan off round time and space, you sort of have to distinguish yourself a little,” she grins, before getting up. “Enjoy the spag.” 

He blinks. “Wait-” 

She’s out the door, before he can ask, and he slumps back, frowning. 

“My neighbors are weird.”


End file.
